Chapter 5 - Andrew's Story
Posted: October 31, 2003 - 04:30:52 pm

We had spent an evening of love and sex, Dee Dee and I. It was time for me to be off. We both have work in the morning. Oh, boy. Wonder what that's going to be like?

She was lying partially under the cover, one arm thrown carelessly above her head, her eyes closed and a sensual, lazy smile on her face. I could see her semi-nude form looking so warm and inviting and could feel myself stirring once again.

I finished dressing and walked over to her bed, kneeled at the bedside and put my arms around her. I took her in my arms and gave her a gentle kiss.

"Thank you, Dee Dee, for a wonderful evening. You know that if you ever need anything from me, all you have to do is ask."

She never opened her eyes. She seemed like a sleepy kitten. "Thank you Andrew. That was lovely!"

And just like that, she was asleep. I can take a hint. I kissed her cheek once more, and then made my way out and home.

I figured if this wouldn't change the dynamic in our relationship, nothing would. I was more than a little apprehensive that Thursday morning as I entered the conference room. I saw that I was the first to arrive. Well, there are only two of us, so I could only be first or last.

The previous three days of meetings with the lovely Ms. Martin had been tense, to use her word. Mostly I was in a constant state of arousal whenever she was near me. I split my time between worrying about a sexual harassment lawsuit and wondering about how I could get her to bed.

Well I don't have to worry or wonder anymore. But I know Deirdre well enough to know that she is going to be all business. She's probably already had second and third thoughts about last night. She's worried about the appearance of impropriety. She may be worried about my respect for her as a business associate after I fucked her senseless and had her begging for mercy.

Yes, this morning would be interesting.

She came breezing into the conference room looking business-casual stunning.

She said "Oh, hello Andrew. I'm glad you're here already. We have a lot of work to catch up on. Now that the tension is, ahem... broken, if you know what I mean." And then she laughed.

I had to laugh myself. The woman is funny in a cute, up-front sort of way. She doesn't avoid problems. She confronts them. But she confronts them with her little throw-away jokes that seem to defuse the problem as she confronts it.

Actually this joke didn't exactly defuse my problem. Yes, I was glad to see Deirdre's reaction to our night before. But I thought she would be cool about it. She's always cool.

But if I thought that a little tension relieving would alleviate my natural physical reaction to her presence, I was sadly (or happily as the case may be) mistaken. There was an stirring at my midsection and suddenly my pants were again pointing towards Deirdre.

If she noticed, she only showed it by allowing her smile to broaden a bit. Her whole being seemed to emanate contentedness, kind of like a warm, well-fed kitten.

Deirdre could have acted a number of ways when she came to work. She could have been nervous and self-conscious; acting like the whole thing had been a terrible mistake. She could have acted like a love sick teenager, allowing our mutual attraction to interfere with the jobs we both had to do. Instead she was all business with just this veneer of relaxed, happy sexuality. She was for all the world like a competent businesswoman, but one who had been thoroughly and pleasantly fucked and was basking luxuriously in the afterglow.

This beautiful girl seemed incapable of being anything but desirable. Every aspect of her personality as it was revealed showed her to be sexy, warm, and fully comfortable with herself.

Deirdre and I spent the morning actually working and making great progress. I don't know if I mentioned it, but Deirdre is a brain. If she has an idea that I disagree with, with just a little explanation on her part I can be brought around to her point of view. I'm a logical kind of guy, and I succumb to impeccable logic.

Yeah, right. I'll admit that it's difficult to be objective while staring into Deirdre's eyes. Generally speaking, if she wants something, I'll agree to it.

Let me rephrase that. It's to the point that I'll do anything she wants. If she wants it, I'll do it. All she needs do is ask, and I'll give it to her. Anything; anything at all, I'll do.

This places me in a somewhat weakened negotiating position.

I'm into theories. I like to translate the happenings of the world and of my life into logical wholes to understand the meaning behind the facts, the 'why' of the 'what'. I often have insights, flashes of inspiration that reveal the mysterious workings of the world. Well, most of the time I have such insights it's when I'm high. The next morning I can never remember what they were. But I'm pretty certain they were insightful.

Man thinks with his dick. Okay, you're saying that you may have heard this theory before and it's not exactly original, and by the way buddy, where's your proof? To the simple statement that 'man thinks with his dick' I add the codicil that 'dick-thinking' if you care to call it that, dovetails nicely with my theory of chemical attractors. As I work with this theory, I realize I am approaching a kind of 'unified theory', marrying the various theories into a single, workable whole.

My 'chemical attractors' theory has it that very occasionally two people's body chemistries are so compatible that the people become almost like a drug to each other. It's something to do with receptors within one person that perfectly fit the pheromones or chemical secretions or skin or something of the other person. Well I'll admit that this aspect of my theory needs a little work.

So we can use my 'chemical attractors' theory as the mechanism that drives my 'man thinks with his dick' theory. The likelihood of two people who are chemical attractors actually meeting each other is so small that it rarely ever happens.

But when it does, it answers another universal question. You can look back in history; you sometimes see it manifested by people in your own life, sometimes even people in your own family, sometimes even yourself. Someone does something just crazy. And you say to yourself, "What the fuck was he thinking?"

We have the answer. He was thinking with his dick; the fatal result of his being intellectually in thrall to his chemical attractor.

This is a good theory! I'm not expecting the Nobel Prize or anything, but maybe the Pulitzer would be in order.

This is all in explanation of the fact that I will do whatever Deirdre wants me to do, and gladly. I'm living proof of the 'man thinks with his dick' theory.

We had been at it for about an hour. I was sitting to Deirdre's left at the conference table since we were both looking at numbers being displayed on her laptop. Suddenly out of the blue I felt a hand on my dick. It went from three-quarters hard to full extension so fast I thought it was going to tear a whole in my pants. I must have jumped two feet in the air.

I said, "Deirdre! What are you doing?"

She removed her hand, smiled and said, "Just checking", and returned to the work as if nothing had happened. That kind of thing can make you crazy.

An hour later she did it again. All of a sudden her hand was on my dick, just kind of patting it like a favored dog. She shook her head with a mock-sad look on her face and said, "You poor thing. It must be awful to feel that way."

I said, "It's way better than the alternative."

She looked puzzled. "What's the alternative?"

"Not feeling that way."

She said "Oh" and then returned to the work with no further comment. She just kept to the job, but her demeanor all morning was so alluring that I was practically panting by lunch time.

She glanced at her watch at about 12:15 and said, "Are you ready for lunch?"

Food was the furthest thing from my mind, but I responded "I could eat."

She nodded her head and said, "So can I".

Deirdre stood and walked to the door of the conference room. I was expecting her to leave, perhaps go to the Ladies room to freshen up. Instead she locked the door and turned to me.

"We're on our break now. We're off the clock. Now I can do something I've wanted to do all day."

She walked over to me. I was still seated, but turned my chair away from the conference table so I was facing her. She stood between my legs, took my face in her hands and brought our lips together in a kiss of greeting and promise. I felt those wonderful lips working their magic. I was enthralled with her again.

She finally broke the kiss and said, "Thanks, I needed that."

I was shocked as she slowly dropped to her knees in front of me. Her hands went to my belt, then to my zipper. She grabbed the top of my pants with each hand and looked into my eyes expectantly. I got the picture. I lifted my hips. She dragged my pants and boxers down with one motion and my dick jumped up and hit her on the cheek.

She laughed and grabbed for it with that dainty hand. She held my dick in her hand, only inches from her face. Her lovely eyes looked up at mine and she smiled.

"I've never done this before. I've never even thought about it before. Andrew, I've been thinking about virtually nothing else since Monday morning. And, you poor dear: you need to work off some of the tension that's developed this morning. I think I can help you with that."

She brought my dick up and planted a gentle kiss on the head. It lurched up so fast I thought it was going to put her eye out. She licked the underside.

"Oh, God!" I groaned. The woman made my head spin. She sucked the head of my dick into her mouth and I felt her tongue licking the head, swirling around the hole. Her hands cupped my balls, massaging them, gently squeezing them.

She took several inches down her throat. She was on her knees, her head at my lap, but her eyes never left mine. Let me tell you, this is the best way to get a blow job. That's a stupid statement. Any way you get a blow job is the best way to get a blow job. But eye to eye contact adds a thrill of intimacy to the act. It ceases being just a mechanical function.

She was pleasuring me and loving it. I don't know if she found the act itself exciting, but I could tell that my reaction to what she was doing directly fed her desire to do more.

If I didn't know better, I would swear she was acting like a person bestowing a special gift on the one she loves.

Her head was moving up and down, going deeper, and then pulling out. Her tongue was doing magical things. I was moaning. My hips took on a mind of their own, pushing into her mouth, timing the thrusts with the movement of her head. I'd been hard all day. I needed relief desperately. My eyes were half closed; I was losing my sense of reason. I was rotating my hips on her face. My breath was coming in short gasps.

Her eyes were still locked on mine. My balls tightened up. My dick started to swell. It was as if she sensed what was about to happen. Her eyes lit up! She turned on this switch and I was dazzled by the light in her eyes. It was all I could take. I began to cum. My hands were on the sides of her head, guiding her, holding her, as I shot my load down her throat. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head as she milked every drop of juice from my cock. I collapsed into the chair as Deirdre continued to gently lick my softening dick.

I should note that we didn't have a discussion about me cumming in her mouth as it were. Perhaps I should have asked. Perhaps a true gentleman would have pulled out. But I'm not only a gentleman, I'm a systems analyst. I realized that had I pulled out of her mouth, I could have sprayed semen all over the place, even on that gorgeous business-casual outfit of Deirdre's. So it was in the best interests of all involved that I cum in her mouth. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Deirdre's mouth was still on my now-soft dick when I finally recovered enough to open my eyes and look at her. She was still looking directly in my eyes. She slowly, almost reluctantly, backed her mouth away from my dick. When she was sure that I was watching she opened her mouth and I could see it was filled to the brim with my cum. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed.

Christ! It was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen in my life. I pulled her from her knees into my arms and kissed her. It was a passionate kiss of almost animal lust and I tasted myself in her mouth.

She pulled away from the kiss and said "I know you're not going to believe this, but I'm still hungry. How about lunch?"

What do you say to something like that? We kissed one last lingering time and then popped off to the corner deli for sandwiches.

The afternoon went much as the morning. We were putting together our part of the project in a really timely fashion. Too damn timely as far as I was concerned. We had been allocated three weeks to get this done, but I could see now that it wouldn't take nearly that long. My time was running out.

Several times in the afternoon, Deirdre suddenly touched my erection through my pants. It sounds erotic, but let me tell you, it scares the hell out of you to have someone grab your dick when you aren't expecting it.

Finally I couldn't take it any more. She grabbed me and squeezed. Then started rubbing my length with her palm. It was exasperating.

I wasn't exactly angry. How can you be angry at a girl who likes to feel your dick? But it was making me crazy. I said "Deirdre, stop that!"

She looked repentant. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I just need to know that it still wants me."

I lowered my voice. I was afraid I might yell so loud that they could hear me in Cincinnati.

"Dee Dee! At 5:00 this afternoon we are leaving this office. We are going straight back to your hotel room. And I am going to fuck you senseless. Don't argue with me. Don't tell me you're hungry. Don't tell me you're not in the mood. We'll take care of any needs you have afterwards. But first I've got to fuck the living shit out of you. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head solemnly. "Yes, Andrew."

"Good. Let's get back to work then."

But the closer we got to 5:00, the more pressure built in me. It felt almost like anger but it wasn't. Maybe it was powerful anticipation, how do I know what the hell it was? I was ready to explode. My only desire in the world was to get my dick into Deirdre. I was fucking obsessed.

Finally it was 5:00! I hurried Deirdre along, but she got the picture. She knew what I was going through and realized she better put out and fast, if only for the state of my mental health.

She walked to the door of the conference room and turned back to me.

"Andrew honey, wait here ten minutes before you follow me to my hotel, okay?"

I was like a petulant child. "Ten minutes?" I asked. It sounded like ten hours to me. I was horny!

"Yes, Andrew, ten minutes. I have to pee. You will give the condemned prisoner a chance to pee before the execution, won't you?"

"All right! All right! Go! You're cutting in to my ten minute allotment here." She kissed my cheek, then opened the conference room door and was gone.

Ten minutes takes a long time when you are counting backwards from six hundred. I felt like I was a kid again when my dad wouldn't let us go downstairs on Christmas until 7AM. Since we were always awake by 6, it made Christmas morning a living hell for us, watching that clock move slowly towards 7.

I was out the door on the count of 1 and went straight to the hotel. I was overflowing with need. I needed her and only her right now.

I knocked on her hotel room door. It opened. She was there, wearing only a silken robe. I quickly stepped in, closed the door behind me and took her in my arms.

We kissed. It was a kiss of passion, romance, and lust. My hands opened her robe. It dropped to the floor and suddenly she stood naked in my arms. I didn't have time for niceties. I scooped her up and carried her to the bed. I tore at my clothes, throwing them everywhere in my haste. I clamored onto the bed and suddenly I was home.

I was deep within her, driving into her, claiming her for my own. She was a full partner in her ravishment, her face a mask of lust. Her arms were around my back, her fingernails ineffectually clawing at me. Her legs were spread, her knees bent, her feet flat on the bed. I was roaring my passion, she was screaming hers. We were lust-crazed, primal animals.

As I rode her she had several orgasms, but my dick was like steel. I couldn't even slow down, I couldn't give her a break. I needed to pour my seed into her. I needed to show her down in the most primitive parts of her organism that she belonged to only me. She had to know that. I couldn't share her with anyone. She was mine!

I was building to a massive release. Somehow I was driving into her even harder than before. I felt it coming, and then I was there! My prick exploded as her pussy was bathed in my seed. Her orgasm was triggered by the flow. She screamed her release, her head thrown back, body arched and frozen in its passion.

And then she collapsed. She lay there with her arms extended, her legs extended, like a rag doll. Her eyes were closed and she was muttering something so quietly that I couldn't make it out.

I lay by her side and took her into my arms once again. When her eyes opened I could see tears. I tried to comfort her. I stroked her face; I told her I loved her.

"Sweetheart, was I too rough for you? I'm so sorry." I just wanted her to be happy. I just wanted her to love me.

She put on a brave smile and shook her head. "No, Andrew. You could never be too rough for me when you are like that. I don't know how to thank you for these last two nights. They are just so special to me."

I kissed her and her soft passionate embrace was enough to stoke my fires yet again. I could never get enough of her. Never.

I worked my kisses down her body, spending time to worship and adore every spot along the way. My mouth came to her sex and I began to worship her in earnest. I worked her over slowly, bringing up her passion in a lazy curve, but always increasing. I so enjoy going down on Deirdre.

I inserted a finger into her and began a stroking motion as my mouth continued to make love to her pussy. She was starting to hump my face, her moans continuous as she was rocketing toward another mind-numbing orgasm.

But I had other ideas. I'm not a cruel person, you understand. But I needed to know something. I needed to know how she felt about me. She seemed reluctant to tell me how she felt. Perhaps with a little incentive I could get it out of her.

I could tell she was close to her orgasm, so I backed off a little, brought her down just enough to keep her near the edge but unable to go over the top. Several times she approached her climax, and each time she was denied. She was getting delirious.

I gave her pussy a passionate kiss, ran my tongue over her clitoris, and then raised my head. My finger continued to plunge in and out of her pussy.

"Dee Dee. Dee Dee, honey. I need to ask you something."

Her eyes shot open. She was confused. "What? What? What do you want?"

"Dee Dee, I need to know how you feel about me. I'm kind of lonely out here all by myself. Why don't you tell me how you feel?"

She shook her head. "No. Don't ask that, please. I'm sorry, but don't ask that."

I licked her clit a few times just to get her attention. I slid a second finger into her pussy. My other hand reached around and I gently rubbed her other hole with one finger.

"Come on, Dee Dee. All you have to do is tell me, and I'll finish you off."

"God, Andrew. How could you be so mean!? Oh, Oh God, OH GOD, Please. PLEASE! ANDREW! PLEASE!"

I was feeling a little guilty about it, but I've never known a woman before who I could do this to, just have her begging for it. It felt good.

"Dee Dee. Dee Dee, honey. How do you feel about me?"

Again I allowed my tongue to circle her clit, giving just enough stimulation to drive her crazy, but not enough to finish her off.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"All right, you bastard! I admit it. I love you. I love you more than I love my own life. I love you now and forever. I LOVE YOU."

I couldn't bring myself to finish her off like that. Instead I took her in my arms and entered her. I had to be inside her. We loved each other. I had to fuck her. As my dick slid into her she screamed her orgasm. I pumped her viciously as I could feel my own climax quickly approach. Again I sprayed her full of my seed, again I staked my claim. She was mine. It was the happiest moment of my life.

We lay in each other's arms for at least an hour, dozing, and recovering. Deirdre had her eyes closed and had her head buried in my shoulder. Finally she rolled away from me buried her head in the pillow and began to cry. She was quietly weeping into the pillow, but the crying seemed to gain momentum and suddenly she was bawling piteously, great sobs wracking her body.

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shuddered and moved away from it.

"Dee Dee, baby. What's wrong? Are you all right?"

She gasped out her answer between sobs. "I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible person! I know I'm awful! How can you stand me? You must hate me. Please don't hate me, Andrew. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say it!"

"Say what?" I asked disingenuously.

"You know perfectly well what!" she said. "Why do you pretend you don't know what I'm talking about?"

I tried soothing her. "Sweetheart, it's all right. I love you. I forced you to say it. I won't hold you to it. You don't have to love me if you don't want to."

Her wails increased. She could barely get the words out. "But I do! I do love you. I can't help how I feel. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. I'm an awful person!"

"Yes, Dee Dee, you're just about the most awful person I know."

She was gasping and crying. She was anguished. She asked "Could you still love me anyway?"

I said "Only till the end of time."

That may have been the right thing to say. She flung herself on me, her head buried into my shoulder, her arms around my neck, crying inconsolably.

Men are dogs. This is not a theory, but accepted dogma among the cognoscenti. This poor girl was pouring her heart out to me. She was crying her eyes out; obviously broken-hearted at some real or imagined injury she apparently thought she was doing me.

Yes, I felt tugs on my heart strings to see such a pitiable sight. Yes, I wanted to hold her to my chest, pat her head, comfort her. But mostly I wanted to fuck her. I felt like a pig, but what could I do? Please refer to my 'man thinks with his dick' theorem.

Is there anything sexier in the world than a gorgeous naked woman, crying her eyes out, needing to be comforted the old fashioned way? And I was just the guy to do the comforting.

I reached to the night stand, grabbed some tissues and started to dry her eyes. I let her blow her nose a few times and then just held her. Slowly her sobbing stopped. She seemed to take a deep breath and slowly release it. I felt her go almost limp in my arms.

That's when I turned up her chin and deeply kissed her. The way I figured it was, for some reason she didn't want me to know how she felt about me. There was some deep dark secret lurking there, but I could worry about that later.

The fact is I tortured the truth out of her. It was easy. I'm thinking of volunteering my services to work for the army. I could be the official interrogator of all female prisoners. I'd make 'em talk.

But the truth is out. She admitted it to me again. She loves me. My theory here is: she is ready to fuck. She really wants to be fucked. Because now she can be fucked by the man she loves and who loves her, and now both of us know it. That's got to count for something, right?

I know I wanted to fuck her and for the very same reason. It's like sealing a compact. It's that signature on the dotted line that changes you from fuck-buddies to soul mates. It's the moment in time when both people start thinking about forever.

I took hold of myself and began to rub the head along Deirdre's pussy lips. She was wet already. I bet her crying made her horny too. She was just so vulnerable.

I didn't want to take advantage of her. I just wanted to take her.

I had her on her back, rubbing her with the head of my dick. I pushed the head between her lips and it slid in easily. It knew where it belonged. It kept going, moving slowly into her until it totally bottomed out. And there it stayed.

Our eyes met, and I saw the look in her eyes. It looked like adoration. I know that look. I had the same look in my eyes.

I whispered "I love you, Deirdre".

She said, "I love you too Andrew. You are my heart."

We slowly began to move, our hips achieving a lazy rhythm. I was moving only a few inches back and forth within her. We were loving each other.

I tenderly kissed her while continuing our slow romantic lovemaking. My hands roamed her body. They just wanted to touch that soft, soft skin. They just wanted to fondle those small round breasts. They wanted to feel her ass cheeks; grab them; pull her tighter to me.

She began to moan and hump. The romantic moment was building toward a sexual release. I rolled to my back, puller her on top of me, still impaled on my cock.

She hugged me, her head on my chest. Then she sat straight up, looking down at me, and suddenly her tears were a memory. That smile, the one that ignites her eyes, was suddenly shining like a light above me.

She said, "Oh, you're finally going to let me be in charge, you male chauvinist pig?"

I shook my head. "I may be naïve, but I'm not stupid. You've been in charge since the moment you walked into my life."

Her smile actually broadened. My God, she has a dimple! She leaned down and playfully kissed me, her tits rubbing lightly back and forth across my chest.

Deirdre held that position, our pubic bones frozen together. Suddenly my dick was being massaged by Deirdre's pussy. It was being squeezed, rubbed, toyed with.

I moaned, "Christ, Dee Dee!"

She smugly said, "You see? I'm not without talent."

She leaned forward, gave me a mind-boggling open mouthed kiss, then leaned back and started riding.

She said "Hold still, Andrew. Let me do this myself."

Her hips were grinding. She would lean forward, allowing a few inches of my dick to leave her pussy, then push backward, making those same few inches slide their way home.

At first it was a lazy ride. But then she started feeling it. Her eyes never left mine, but her body was in constant motion. Her slow grind gradually sped up. Her backward motion became jerky. She started to throw her hips into it. She was fucking me with power, grunting with the force of her strokes.

I realized she had achieved total role reversal as she was fucking my brains out and all I could do was lay there and take it. But I couldn't take it any more. She was riding and squeezing, squeezing and riding. I pushed back with as much force as I could muster and my passion exploded into her womb.

It was the push she needed as she arched her back, ground her pussy unmercifully against my dick and screamed her release.

We lay quietly for a long time afterwards in the glow of being in love. She was still on top of me; her head was lying on my chest. It felt good.

It was time that I learned what was bothering Deirdre. Whatever it was that was causing her such anguish, I had to address it. What kind of a lover am I if I can't ease her pain?

I held her as we talked. "Dee Dee. What is it that's bothering you? If there's some sort of problem, maybe I can help."

She just shook her head.

"What is it, Deirdre? Do you have a problem? Are you sick?"

She sadly smiled and shook her head again.

"You can't have babies, is that it?"

She sat up like a shot. "Babies! You never said anything about babies!"

I felt I was on shaky ground, here. She sounded angry. I wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that I had never said anything about babies. I didn't want to start her on another crying bender, so I tried to remain calm.

I kept my voice soft and reasonable. "Sweetie, how could I talk about babies when you wouldn't talk about next Friday?"

She seemed to be somewhere else for a second. I saw a tear in her eye. She stood and held out her hand to me.

"Thank you for another lovely evening, Andrew. We better call it a night."

How could something that was going so well turn so wrong. I had to ask her.

"Deirdre, are you angry with me? Did I say the wrong thing?"

She smiled and put her arms around me, hugging her head into my chest. "No, Andrew, you always say the right thing for me. We'll talk about this tomorrow night, maybe. I know you must be upset with me for not opening up, but it's not my choice to make. I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know as soon as I can."

What do you say to that? I wasn't going to get any answers tonight. My only option was to leave and hope for the best.

Friday at work was much like Thursday. We were plowing through the information now. We had a direction we were headed and everything was falling into place. I was glad for Deirdre, since obviously her performance is essentially evaluated with every job she does. She's good. She's really good. She seems to love her job.

I was as into the process as she was on Friday, but I couldn't help thinking about the things we had said the night before, especially the part about babies. How was I to interpret that? We had been having unprotected sex. This was Deirdre. I certainly had no concerns about disease. And she had assured me on Wednesday that there was no chance of pregnancy, so I didn't have to bother with condoms.

Is she on the pill? A woman who never has sex on the pill? I wouldn't think so. Maybe my second guess was right. Maybe she is sterile. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Sure, I want kids, but we could adopt if it came to that. I'm for ZPG anyway.

It's better that I not try to guess. My theory is I'm only making trouble for myself by trying to decide what particular stick is up Deirdre's lovely little butt. She'll tell me when she tells me. I'll deal with it or I won't deal with it.

Actually, I'm not really worried. Mostly I'm concerned about she and I being together. I couldn't think of anything that could possibly change that.

Deirdre remained her lovely, sweet-tempered self during the day. She was all business, as usual. But her words, her attitude, were all filtered through this relaxed happy demeanor. I just love to be around her.

As we were preparing to leave at 5:20, I asked her what I had wanted to ask her all day.

"Shall I see you this evening, Deirdre?" I guess my anxiety showed.

She took my hand. "Of course, Andrew; we've got to sort this out. I think tonight we'll try to do it, if that's okay with you. Pick me up in my room at about 7 tonight, okay? We'll have some dinner, then talk. Maybe I'll have a surprise for you."

I said, "No, thanks. I've had all the surprises I can handle in one lifetime. See you at 7."

I went home and changed, turned around and came back into the city. It was one of those things, you know. I hit every green light on the way out and every green light on the way back. I drove the speed limit, took my time, and arrived twenty minutes early.

Rather than sit and wait, I went straight up to her room. I'd rather be with her than waiting for her anytime.

When I knocked on her room it was 6:45. I was feeling fine, none of the pent-up arousal that had made me crazy the previous two evenings. I think my body had finally gotten the signal that Deirdre was going to be around for a little while and I didn't need to rape her every time I saw her. That's a theory I'm working on.

Standing in the hallway of that hotel, I was fine; calm, collected, fine. The door cracked open and she was there. She stood with the door partially opened, wearing a silken robe. Suddenly my hormones went crazy. My dick was suddenly engulfed with the flood of blood that roared into it. I felt a rush and was suddenly dizzy and passionately aroused.

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me and took her in my arms before she could respond.

She had a startled confused look on her face. She looked scared. I covered her mouth with mine.

We were kissing, a kiss of frenzy. My hands were working, untying things, and suddenly she was disrobed. I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on top of the spread.

I stepped back and began to remove my clothes, my eyes never leaving hers. I saw her watching me undress. She made little motions with her head, shaking it back and forth in slow little jerks. I heard her whisper "No..."

Her head may have been whispering 'no', but her body was screaming 'yes'. Her nipples were fully extended, and I could see that there was already moisture between her legs.

I spent as much time worrying about it as it took for me to remove the last of my clothes. I scrambled onto the bed, and I was with her.

She acted like she wanted to move but couldn't. I wasn't in a position to ponder her reluctance. I needed her worse than I had the first time we did this.

I rubbed my dick along her slit to pick up some wetness, and then slammed into her. She screamed. Her arms suddenly grabbed my ass, pulling me into her, her fingernails clawing me.

She felt different somehow. I was crazed with arousal. How could this woman do this to me? It was if the previous hard fuckings had 'worn off' and I had to reclaim my stake on her.

We were fucking like animals. My dick felt like an irresistible force. I hammered into her, but she gave as good as she got. I heard her scream her way through another orgasm. It didn't stop me. It didn't slow me down. I had to fill her with my seed. I had to claim her for my own. I was roaring my desire, my love, my need to own her.

I felt my climax building. My lips were on hers, demanding and receiving her passionate response. My dick expanded and filled with sperm. I was cumming and she was screaming again. I thought our passion would never end.

And then it was over. We both collapsed from our release. I took her in my arms to hold her.

Her head was moving back and forth. I heard her whisper "She said death by fucking."

Suddenly she was crying. It was like yesterday. She turned away from me, forcing her face into the pillow. She was bawling her eyes out. She was mumbling but her voice got louder till I finally could make out the words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to do it. I'm such an awful person. I'm horrible."

Her breathing became labored as she was talking and crying at the same time, her breath coming in gasps.

I took her into my arms and said "Don't worry baby. I love you."

She cried louder. "How can you love me when you don't even know me?"

I kissed her eyelids. "I've known you since the beginning of time. I've loved you forever."

She opened her eyes and looked longingly into mine, still sobbing. She said "She said you were wonderful!" And she kept crying.

Who said I was wonderful. Carol? I always thought my secretary thought I was an arrogant little snot. I am an arrogant little snot.

All men are pigs, me in particular. I was learning that a crying woman was a sure way to make an aroused man. My dick was recovering again. With no more stimulation than a crying, beautiful, sexy, nude woman, it sprang back to life.

I had to be in her while I comforted her. It was an irrepressible need. I took hold of my manhood, found her nether lips, and slid into her again.

Her eyes flew wide. She said, "Oh my God! No, not again! Oh God! I think you should stop. Maybe you shouldn't do this. Oh God!"

Her eyes closed and again her arms were pulling me into her.

Suddenly I heard a voice from behind us. It said "At least you could have waited until you were introduced!"

I turned and there was Deirdre standing in the doorway of the bathroom, naked except for a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

I went into sensual overload.

"Damn, there's fucking two of you. I fucking knew it!!"

Andrew Wiggin

Chapter 6